Contradiction
by GracieP8
Summary: She's near at hand, yet here he stands... his heart and mind at war... could he have pulled the trigger, if he'd been told...?


**Hey guys! I just wanted to do a little one-shot of Gleb's POV from "Still/The Neva Flows (Reprise)". Though I promise this won't have any deaths and stuff since this is focused on emotional development but there is still some minor violence and an almost attempt for suicide (which is why it's rated T) so I'm assuming that not all Anastasia fans are going to be comfortable with this. This also takes place in a chapter of "Dreams of My Past" (which, side note: you should go check out right now as I'm making an audio drama adaptation of it).**

**UPDATE: Fixed a few grammar errors!**

**Please review!**

* * *

There she was. I didn't know how I should feel. I could hear my heart pounding in my ear and feel my palms sweating as I held the gun. _"Could I have pulled the trigger if I've been told?"_ I wondered to myself, whether if I could do the task my father had done ten years ago. As I approached her, the voices of doubt in my head began to grow louder.

Anya turned around to face me _"Gleb?"_ She cried in confusion and fear.

"I let you go once, I won't let you off easily _now._" I spat, trying to put up a front "Paris… is _no place_ for a _good and loyal_ Russian!"

"We are _both_ good and loyal Russians." she pleaded, but I was still unwavering, trying not to let my emotion show "I've come to take you home…"

"My home is here now…"

"Stop _playing this game,_ Anya!" I grabbed her arm as she tried to leave; I was no longer avoiding the elephant in the room. _"I beg you!"_

"We _both know_ it's _not a game_, Gleb!" The young woman cried as she broke free from my grasp and clenched her fists tightly.

"If you _really are_ Anastasia" I started, my dark eyes staring into her sea-blue ones as I loomed over the petite woman "_do you think_ history _wants you_ to have lived?"

"Yes!" I was taken aback by the boldness of her answer "Why _don't you?_"

Right now, I could easily shoot her to avenge my father's shame and fulfil his duty but… I loved Anya. I began to feel my head split into half. No… She caused my family to be torn apart… she caused my family to be shamed… she needs to die!

"The Romanovs _were given everything,_" I growled, feeling bile rise up my throat as I said their name "And _gave back nothing!_ Until the Russian people _rose up and destroyed them._"

"All _but one…_" Her spine straightened.

My eyes widened. She just blatantly admitted her identity to someone with a job to finish, proudly and strongly. She didn't look like the meek, soft-spoken street-sweeper I met in Leningrad not so long ago, but a confident, poised and graceful woman… no! I loved her, but I hated her… I _wanted_ to be with Anya but I _wanted_ to erase the last of the Romanovs from the world…

"_Finish it,_" she dared, coming closer to me. "_I am_ my father's daughter."

"And _I am_ my father's son!" She slowly backed away, but I was blocking the doorway as I pulled a pistol from my pocket "Finish it _I must_." But I felt as if I was contradicting myself even more.

"In me you see them!" Anya pleaded, her voice rising with each word "_Look_ at their faces in_ mine_, _hear_ their screams, _imagine_ their terror; _see their blood!_"

I have to put an end to this… "_For the last time! Who are you?_" I still held the weapon steady. I felt my voice waver as I bellowed those words.

"I am!" She answered slowly without hesitation "The Grand Duchess! Anastasia! Nikolaevna! Romanov!"

I _refuse_ to accept _all this_! I_ just… can't_! I _have_ to _end this…_! "Be_ careful_ what a dream may bring!" I warned, feeling the tension as thick as syrup "A revolution is a simple-"

_"You are not your father's son… promise me that you'll never end up like him…"_

My mother's dying words suddenly resurfaced… my gaze shifted from Anya's face down towards the floor, no doubt deciding who I _wanted_ to become in that moment: my father, or myself _"My God, who am I?"_

What… what should I do _now_? _This contradiction_… I feel… _so conflicted… so helpless… so afraid…_ I _couldn't_ feel my legs. I just collapsed on the ground, speechless and at a loss of words. I winced, scraped the sweat off my brow, and let out an earth-shattering cry of frustration, venting out all my pent-up emotion. The gun clattered to the floor. Kneeling down, I hesitated for a moment before picking it up and putting it close to my head, preparing for the end; but suddenly, I dropped the gun to the floor… my tears _threatened_ to cascade down my face _but now,_ I _didn't even try_ to dam the tears. _This contradiction…_ it's _beginning_ to take over _every sense_ in _my body_… "I… I can't. I can't be my father's son anymore!" I shouted out my anger at myself, my voice cracking with anger and sadness as the tears began to torrent down my face…

She kneeled down and sadly whispered words of comfort "It's _not too late_ to change your fate…"

I howled out my feelings as she continued to comfort me "I _know_ the feeling…"

"You're _free_ to leave…" I grunted softly, finally coming at peace with myself. The young woman gasped as those words tumbled out from my lips. "Run _before_ I change my mind!" I asserted. Then she bolted towards the doorway before I got the chance to change my mind. I sighed to myself as I thought _"The Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov… what am I going to tell everyone once I get home?"_ I _knew_ I _couldn't_ come home empty-handed with no answers but… I finally came up with a resolve to change my own fate… after all; it is _never too late_ to change our story… I took a deep breath as I prepared myself to get back to Leningrad with an answer…


End file.
